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It must be fake movie week here in alt-weekly comic land, because Ruben Bolling did one called Peek-A-Boo.

I remember going to the Blockbuster (née Endless Video) in the late eighties and being fascinated by the covers for what seemed like an entire aisle of screwball sex comedies. I used elements from a lot of them, but Meatballs was my main inspiration:

As for this year’s Oscar season, I’m only interested in The Road and A Serious Man by the Coen brothers, which I still need to see.

It’s not even Thanksgiving, but the Big Fat Whale Holiday Bargain is already going on. I’ll post more about it next week. Right now I’m scrambling to get ready for a month-long sojourn to the Mid Atlantic.

Next Week: Stimulus II

Obviously this isn’t true. Plenty of men would hit on the flu virus if it had big tits and a tramp stamp of its own. And I bet it would look a lot like Tila Tequila.

Also, cough into your elbows, you sick fucks! I don’t want your snot aerosols infecting me.

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If you don’t dick around on the web, this probably won’t make much sense to you. But if you’re not dicking around online, there’s no way you’d be reading my blog. So I’m gonna call you out as a dirty liar.

I did something similar in January, and it’s surprising how most of these new ones weren’t on my radar back then, except for steampunk and email scams, both of which are things I’ve had to quickly delete or scroll past every goddamn day since I first hooked up my Tandy to the outside world.

Bozadee Bopping could be the new Keyboard Cat, or maybe something like a rimshot to punctuate a sentence where a “Shut the Fuck Up” meaning was conveyed. For reference:

He starts Bozadee-Bopping at 3:27

Lastly, a quick reminder about the three ways you can support the strip: Buy stuff, follow it on Twitter and Facebook, and smite my enemies in my honor.

Next Week: Oscar Season

Aw, jeez Maine. I thought you were cool. Then you went and turned Portland into Maine’s Austin. Was your vote a result of Jumping Frenchmen of Maine Syndrome and the sudden stimuli of out-of-state funded political ads?

Rhode Island is on notice too. Gay marriage still isn’t allowed there.

Connecticut has gay marriage, but it also has Lieberman, not to mention half the state roots for the motherfuckin’ Yankees. (Connecticut Mets fans: We cool.) So I can’t in good conscience grant it admission into New New England.

For this week’s BFW Quickie, I was going to draw a quick sketch of Lieberman as a hemorrhoid on the sphincter of congress (Its reformhole, if you will.), then I saw Jen’s depiction of him as an intestinal blockage. A couple hours after that, I read David Rees’ hilarious 10 Lieberman jokes, and when I woke up this morning, I read Tom Tomorrow’s take on the Lieber-douche. I could not bear to look at that human-shit-pig’s infinite crevasses any longer and scrapped my plans.

I’ll try to come up with something else by tomorrow afternoon. I’m under a self-imposed fart joke moratorium, so that might be difficult.

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Consider this the companion piece to this cartoon. In another three years, when these two quagmires are still dragging on, I might do another comic where they team up in a drug-fueled raunchy comedy, kind of like Harold and Kumar.

A couple helicopter crashes and Michael Hoh resigning have improved things a bit this week, but Afghanistan has never gotten much attention. We can blame the media for some of it, but let’s not pretend that Americans have a deep thirst for knowledge that’s being stifled by the likes of Fox News. We’s a bunch of morons! The fate of Balloon Boy captivated the nation, but when it comes to foreign children getting blown up by Predator drones, we couldn’t give two shits.

I’m not excusing myself either. I love being a big ol’ ignorant goofball making fart jokes. I sleep better that way. If you want far more regular coverage of this mess, colleagues like Ted Rall, Kevin Moore, and Matt Bors are a better bet. (Sorry I didn’t link to anyone else, but my fart jokes don’t write themselves!)

And yeah, I created a Twitter account for Afghanistan War. I doubt it’ll get as much attention from me as the Tweeting Toaster.

Next Week: Internet Knockoffs

Goofy gravestones are an excellent indicator of a house that’s giving out quality Halloween candy.

Not enough Halloween comics for you? Check out The Urban Blah everyday this week!

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Sorry if this offends real life flame-retards. I couldn’t come up with another joke to take its place because I spent too much time time vacillating between using jizz stain and cum stain in the last panel. Although the latter sounds funnier (K sounds are the funniest phoneme.), I went with the former because it sounds less pornographic.

It’s dilemmas like these that keep my mind limber.

UPATE: About the rape whistle. Someone brought this up over on Facebook, and I want to be clear that I’m not saying anyone in a sexy cat, nurse, or witch costume is asking to be raped. I’m making fun of those costume cliches, and the ridiculousness of wearing something designed to get strangers to look at your tits combined with a rape whistle.

So ladies, if you insist on being a sexy something for Halloween, at least be an original sexy something. Like a sexy Walter Cronkite ghost.

Next Week: Publicity Stunts for the War in Afghanistan

I only recently became aware of this Latisse prescription eyelash medicine bullshit because I canceled my subscription to Lady Maxim last year.

Since these pharmaceutical wizards are too busy making dicks and eyelashes bigger to find a cure for cancer, the least they can do is make Brain Candy a reality. Speaking of which, here’s some bonus BRUCIO! for you guys:

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I started out with a cartoon mocking Glenn Beck, but my mind drifted off into absurd areas and my raging hatred of Cokie Roberts and Peggy Noonan.

Next Week: Halloween Tips n’ Tricks